


A Little (But Totally NOT Black) Magic

by trancer



Category: Glee, Hollows - Kim Harrison
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, F/F, Femslash, Girl Peen, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-06
Updated: 2011-05-06
Packaged: 2017-10-19 03:39:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trancer/pseuds/trancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not the first time Rachel‘s been cursed. But did it have to be *that* curse!?!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little (But Totally NOT Black) Magic

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in the ["Tainted Love"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/183701) universe but, if you haven‘t read that fic here‘s all you need to know - Rachel‘s a witch and Quinn‘s a vampire.

“I miss my vagina,” Rachel sighed dramatically.

At the mere mention of the word ‘vagina’, a chorus of childish laughter erupted from various hiding spots within the kitchen.

“Artie!” Rachel yelled and the laughter turned to high-pitched squeals as dozens of Pixies, darting out from where they were hiding and circling abut the kitchen, laughed uproariously at Rachel’s predicament.

In a flash and a trail of pixie dust, Artie flew in through the cracked window. “Sorry, Rachel,” he said, wrangling the last of his siblings and darting back outside.

Rachel walked over to the window, practically slamming it shut. She turned back around, folding her arms over her chest as she leaned her backside against the counter. “I still miss my vagina,” she mumbled solemnly under her breath.

Quinn, sitting on the counter of the large island at the center of the kitchen in her painted on leather slacks and blood red silk blouse, thumbed another page of the fashion magazine before her. She lifted her head, eyes focusing on Rachel as if she suddenly remembered the girl was there. The bored look became focused, took on meaning, intent as Quinn’s eyes leisurely raked Rachel’s frame before settling on Rachel’s crotch.

“I miss your vagina too,” Quinn said, tongue surreptitiously (or maybe intentionally) poking the corner of her mouth.

Rachel’s cheeks flamed into a bright red, the hands folded over chest quickly unfolded, reaching down to the hem of her Lima sweatshirt and pulling it down over her crotch. “This isn’t funny!”

“Does it look like I’m laughing? You have your flaws, Rachel Morgan-Berry,” Quinn returned her eyes to her magazine. “Your vagina isn’t one of them. I mean it when I say I miss it.”

Rachel pursed her lips, wrinkled her brows. Knowing whether or not Quinn was joking or being serious was a skill Rachel had yet to master. She finally understood what adults meant when asked a question and they answered with the short answer of ‘it’s complicated’. That summed up Rachel’s relationship with Quinn in one succinct word - complicated. Not that she was sure the other part could be stated as a ‘relationship’. Quinn was a vampire, a creature Rachel normally avoided at all costs.. until she didn’t. Well, until Rachel (being.. Rachel and forgetting that Quinn was a vampire) did one of those things she really shouldn’t have done in the presence of a vampire. Which resulted in the bite mark masked by a concealing spell on Rachel’s neck. An unclaimed vampire bite. Which made it, like, open season on one Rachel Morgan-Berry, susceptible to any and all vampires. And while the bite on Rachel’s neck may have been unclaimed, it didn’t mean Rachel, herself, was unclaimed.

No, she’d definitely been claimed by one Quinn Ivy Fabray.

It’s not like they were girlfriends. Rachel really wasn’t sure what they were. Rachel liked boys (no, really). And she was dating Finn. Okay, they weren’t dating at the moment because, when it comes down to it, boys are more fickle than girls and Finn, try as hard as he might, had a hard time accepting the role Quinn played in Rachel’s life. Despite Rachel’s protestations, Finn didn’t believe her when she said there wasn’t ‘more’ going on between her and Quinn.

Okay, sure, they weren’t girlfriends. But, there was the kissing. Quinn was a great kisser, even with the fangs. And then there was the touching, the heavy petting, the groping. There were the things that happened after the kissing and after the touching, where Rachel got so wet she practically soiled her panties. Where Quinn’s fingers stroked and rubbed and caressed. When Quinn replaced her fingers with her tongue and..

Rachel shook her head violently, immediately seeing stars as she cleared the images from her mind. She liked boys. She was dating Finn, even if she wasn’t. But it was probably a good thing she and Finn weren’t dating at the moment because, if he didn’t like Rachel’s complicated relationship with Quinn, he probably really couldn’t handle..

“Of all the curses in the world..” Rachel pouted. “Why did it have to be one that gave me a penis? Why not just curse me into being a boy?”

“Because,” Quinn flipped another page of her magazine. “You’d make an ugly boy.”

“I’d be an awesome boy!”

“Yeah,” Quinn snorted. “An awesome *gay* boy who likes girls.”

“Quinn,” Rachel sighed. “I don’t.. I’m not..”

Rachel stopped as Quinn lifted her eyes, adding a rising eyebrow and a smirk on her lips. “If you didn’t have a penis, what would we be doing right now? Or should I say..” Quinn set the magazine down then leaned back on her hands. “What would I be doing to your vagina?”

See? Complicated.

It’s not like Rachel felt guilty afterwards. But there was a part of her that tried to delude herself into thinking she let Quinn do those things because of the vamp mark on her neck, that Quinn was pulling an aura. Because believing Quinn was the one in control was less scary than Rachel thinking this was what she truly wanted. Being the property of a vampire wasn’t as scary as thinking about the connection both she and Quinn shared, a bond that had been there since childhood, possibly even earlier.

“Quinn,” Rachel sighed. She walked towards the island, placing her hands on the counter. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Fine. Tell me what it’s like?”

“What’s what like?”

“Having a penis.”

“I thought we were changing the subject?”

“I am changing the subject. Instead of talking about your vagina, I wanna talk about your penis.”

“Quinn..”

Lifting off her hands, Quinn leaned forward, body tilting slightly towards Rachel. “You’ve named it, haven’t you?”

“I would never!” Rachel blanched.

“Barbara or Liza?”

Lips pursed into a grim line, Rachel folded her arms haughtily across her chest. “Liza,” she mumbled.

“Ha! I knew it! Do you pee standing up now, or is it easier to just remain seated?”

“..I am so not..”

“Do you tuck to the left or the right?”

“..I think I liked you better when you were talking about my vagina..”

“Have you played with it?”

“I..” Rachel’s mouth went slack, then slammed closed. Her cheeks turned an even deeper red as her eyes found something of interest on the counter. What ever she wanted to say, what ever witty retort she could have thought of to derail the conversation would come to her much, much later as it always did. The damage had been done. Quinn fired her verbal arrows and, like the expert marksman she was, struck home.

“Rachel. Morgan. Berry.” Quinn’s eyes narrowed, lips pulling into an almost feral grin. “You little pervert.”

Rachel’s voice went small as she bowed her head. “I’m not a pervert.”

Quinn slid off the counter then sidled next to Rachel. So close Rachel shivered at the warmth radiating off Quinn. With her hand, Quinn brushed the hair from Rachel’s shoulder, exposing Rachel’s ear where Quinn placed her lips a hair’s breath away. “I like perverts,” she purred.

Rachel’s breath hitched. She knew *that* voice. Quinn’s fingers were under her chin, lifting and turning Rachel’s head and Rachel could see the expanding dark circle of Quinn’s irises. “Quinn,” she breathed in a pleading tone, like she was trying to protest because turning a vampire on hadn’t been her intention when she invited Quinn over.

“Show me.” Quinn’s eyes darkened even more. Her lips parted, like she was venting the building heat within her and Rachel could see the tips of the growing fangs.

“I..” Rachel stammered.

“Tell me you don’t want to,” Quinn smiled, lowered her eyes then raised them. “I *know* you want to.”

While Rachel could never hide her arousal from Quinn, she’d quickly learned the biggest disadvantage to having a penis was the clear and obvious sign of her arousal. Because she was all girl boner now, practically tent-poling her sweat pants.

“I..” Rachel stammered. “We shouldn’t..”

“Yes.” Quinn grabbed Rachel by the wrist and turned on her heel, dragging/yanking Rachel with her as she practically ran out of the kitchen. “We should.”

In a flash, they were in Rachel’s bedroom, Quinn slamming the door so hard the entire building shook. She grabbed Rachel by the shoulders, turning them both until Rachel’s back was to the bed then shoved. Rachel landed hard, the air whooshing from her lungs. Already, Quinn’s hands were on her, yanking on Rachel’s sweat pants, her boxers (Rachel really missed wearing panties). She pulled them down to Rachel’s ankles and pulled at Rachel’s legs until her knees hung over the edge of the mattress.

Back flat on the bed, Rachel lifted her head and gazed down. This wasn’t the first time she’d looked upon Quinn from this position. It was the first time with..

It.

 _It_ stood tall and at attention, bobbing slightly from the thunderous beat of Rachel’s heart. She sighed, sliding up to a seated position.

“It’s ugly,” she said.

“It’s beautiful,” Quinn snapped back, the tiniest bit of reverence coloring her voice. She lifted eyes gone almost black. “You’re beautiful.”

Rachel’s lips twitched into a smile, always taken off guard by Quinn’s random acts of kindness.

“Show me,” Quinn whispered, licked her lips. “Show me.”

Rachel nodded, swallowing hard. Nervous, not at what she was about to do, but for who and why. She couldn’t define their relationship. She just knew she and Quinn were connected.

Rachel brought a hand to her opening mouth and liberally licked the palm. Because, while she might have a penis, Rachel was still a lady and ladies didn’t spit. With spit-slick palm, she wrapped it gingerly around the shaft, inhaling deeply at the sensation, the anticipation trembling deep in her belly.

Aside from a few nervous searches on the internet, biology class and her inexperienced groping sessions with both Finn and Puck, Rachel didn’t really know much about the male member’s ‘fifth appendage’. Sure, she knew she was a little longer than Finn, shorter than Puck and thicker than either. Rachel being a witch and witches known for being ’bigger than the average male’.

So, okay, Rachel, upon being cursed with a penis, had touched herself before. Quick, awkward, eyes closed, jeans pulled down past her hips, jerk off sessions more to alleviate the pressure from an organ that seemingly had a mind of its own. Because, while Rachel liked boys and had an almost, sort of boyfriend with Finn, she went to school with girls. Lots and lots of girls. Attractive girls. Hot girls. Girls like Quinn. And all the little things Quinn liked to do, consciously or not - like when she unconsciously nibbles on the eraser of her pencil - made Rachel’s ‘mind of its own’ cursed penis swell like the proverbial hot dog on a summer’s day grill.

So, yeah, Rachel jerked off. Okay, maybe she did it several times a day since she’d been cursed with a penis. But they were always quick and dirty, eyes closed, ’can we please hurry up and get this over with so I can go back to getting my vagina back’ affairs. It’s not like Rachel wanted to (she didn’t). It’s not like she *enjoyed* herself (she didn’t). It’s not like, when she closed her eyes, Rachel imagined Quinn’s hand around her cursed penis, or Quinn’s mouth, or Quinn’s pussy (which Rachel completely and totally did NOT imagine).

But all the things Rachel did not do when masturbating with her cursed penis could compare to this - Quinn, the real live in the flesh Quinn, on her knees and between Rachel’s legs. Her hands, palms flat and radiating heat, gently rubbing up and down Rachel’s thighs. The hazel of her eyes mere slivers around a sea of black. Lips parted open, fangs glistening in the dim light of Rachel’s room.

The mere sight and Rachel went, like, super hard. Hard as in ‘if Quinn keeps staring like *that* Rachel’s gonna come and wouldn’t that be embarrassing’ hard. So, Rachel slowed her pace, because she wanted this moment to last, wanted to keep that expression on Quinn’s face.

Quinn lifted her head, set on her eyes on Rachel’s face, looking at Rachel like she knew what Rachel was up to and Rachel felt a hard pulse that reverberated down to her core. An irritated sigh passed through Quinn’s lips, in stark contrast to the feral grin that stretched wide across Quinn’s face.

“You can never do anything right, can you?”

Embarrassed, Rachel felt the sudden flush coloring her cheeks. “I..”

Whatever words were meant to come next died in the back of Rachel’s throat, the words died from the sensation of Quinn’s fingers wrapping around Rachel’s shaft.

“Do I have to do *everything*?”

Rachel barely heard Quinn’s words. Her pulse pounded heavily against her eardrums as her eyelids fluttered before snapping shut. Quinn’s grip was tight, tighter than Rachel had ever dared, almost painfully tight, but good, ‘really times infinity’ good. Rachel’s bones turned to jelly causing her to flop backwards bonelessly on the bed. Her head span, breathing immediately labored and then Quinn started stroking, the pace teasingly, agonizingly slow. Rachel moaned with each stroke, her muscles wriggling, hips rolling in desperate need for more friction.

“Quinn,” Rachel breathed, panted, pleaded. She heard Quinn chuckle, not a taunting laugh, but an ’I told you so’ laugh. Like they’d discussed the mechanics of hand jobs before. Not that it mattered because the way Quinn laughed was like the sexiest thing Rachel had ever heard and her hips jerked upwards, pushing herself into Quinn’s grip.

“You like that, don’t you?” Quinn asked and all Rachel could do was nod her head. “Then you’ll *love* this.”

There was a moment when Rachel thought about asking ‘love what?’. The question was replaced by a low guttural groan because Quinn’s hand was replaced by her mouth. Tightened lips, the scrape of teeth. Teeth! And there was the momentary panic at the thought of Quinn’s fangs, eyes already black and the thought of Quinn losing control.

But it really wasn’t Quinn who was on the verge of losing control. It was Rachel. She could feel her magic humming within her, like she’d tapped into some secret sex ley line. Which she might ask her Dad’s about, like, when she was forty or something. They might be bed-wetting liberal 21st century gay Dads, it still made talking about sex with them the most embarrassing conversation in the history of forever.

The pulsing against Rachel’s ear drums turned to a hard pounding, like being on an airplane as it pressurized. A ley line. Rachel really was tapping into a ley line. Her eyes snapped open, that panicking feeling returning.

The colors of her bedroom were normal and there would have been the wash of relief at having not tapped a ley line and accidentally sucking the two of them into the underworld. Except, Quinn was glowing. No, not just Quinn. They were both glowing, haloed by the orange-gold light of their combined auras. Beautiful. Terrifying. The connection that drew Rachel to Quinn and frightened her all at once.

“Quinn..” Rachel croaked. In the back of her mind, she knew this should stop. They were hovering over the precipice of something.. big. Intangible. Incomprehensible. The kind of big that changes things forever. Rachel wasn’t sure if she was ready to handle the consequences if they both fell. Then..

Quinn looked up, pulling her mouth off Rachel’s hard shaft. Quinn looked up with eyes gone pitch black, mouth gone slack as her fangs fully extended. Rachel knew that look. It meant trouble. Bad trouble.

“Rachel..” Quinn shot to her feet. Her hands hurriedly tearing off her blouse, buttons popping and skittering across the floor. “Get the handcuffs!”

“Handcu..”

“GET THEM NOW!!”

Rachel’s eyes went wide as she scrambled off the bed. The handcuffs had been Rachel’s ‘insurance policy’, a way for them to be together and insure Quinn didn’t lose control. Except, Rachel hadn’t cuffed Quinn to the bed before they started doing ‘this’. And now, Quinn was on the verge of losing control, going into full blown vamp mode and doing something they‘d probably both regret.

Rachel scrambled off the bed, hands shaking as she yanked open the drawer to her nightstand. She grabbed the cuffs, turned back to the bed.

Quinn was already flat on the mattress, naked, with black eyes, extended fangs, hands threading through the headboard. Rachel wasn’t sure whether to be turned on or terrified. Little Liza answered for the both of them, twitching so hard Rachel grunted.

“Rachel!” Quinn growled the order. “NOW!”

In flash, Rachel was on the bed, snapping the cuffs around Quinn’s wrists. Kneeling between Quinn’s opened legs, Rachel’s eyes went straight to Quinn’s pussy, a mouth-watered swallow at how flushed and wet and just *ready* for it Quinn was. But things were different this time. It’s not like Rachel didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t that hard to figure out.

“Rachel!” Quinn snapped, sensing Rachel’s hesitation.

“I don’t have a condom!” Rachel blurted back. “What if you get pregnant?”

Quinn yanked her arms, metal clanking against wood. “Goddammit, Rachel! You’re a witch. I’m a vampire. You could fuck me a billion times and I still wouldn’t get knocked up!”

“Yes,” Rachel pointed out. “If I was boy. But I’m a girl with a cursed penis. Who knows what could happen?”

Quinn’s body went limp, like the fight suddenly drained from her. “Rachel, please. I..” she said in a voice that sounded to Rachel’s ears a lot like pleading. “I need you inside me.”

Sometimes Quinn was strong, until she wasn’t. Like, sometimes being so strong broke Quinn. Rachel didn’t quite understand why Quinn needed her but she did. Sometimes, when Rachel didn’t think about it too much, that was all that mattered.

Rachel quickly inched forward. Quinn quickly and eagerly draped her legs over Rachel’s thighs. Another hesitation from Rachel followed. She was really going to do this. She looked down between hers and Quinn’s legs, at the fingers holding Little Liza, the tip just millimeters from Quinn’s pussy. She edged closer, both their breaths hitching as hard tip met wet skin, prodding, pushing open the swollen lips, dragging down over hardened clit, Quinn twitching against her.

Then, Rachel was _there_ at the opening of Quinn’s pussy. She placed her free hand palm flat onto the mattress, just under Quinn’s armpit. She lifted her head, met Quinn’s gaze, their eyes locking and..

Rachel pushed. They both groaned as pressure, resistance turned to insertion, penetration. With the rolling of Rachel’s hips, penetration gave way to friction.

“Oh, g..” Rachel grunted, eyes rolling into the back of her head. This was soo much better than a quickie jerk off session in the bathroom. If Quinn’s hand felt good, her mouth like heaven, being inside Quinn.. well, some other time Rachel would have to decide if Quinn’s mouth was just as good. It wasn’t just about the having a penis part, Rachel loved this part the most - the press of bodies, skin against skin, Quinn’s breath wet and heavy against her ear. Where she could hear every growl, every mewl. How she could feel Quinn’s heart thrumming through her own chest, the sinewy writhe of Quinn’s body, the twitch and strain of every muscle.

“Rach..” Quinn mewled. Quinn was close, she always whimper-mewled when she was close. Rachel felt it, felt it in the ways Quinn’s body tensed beneath her. She felt it *there*, the way Quinn clenched around her cock.

“Just..” Rachel panted, licked her lips. “Just a little more. I wanna come with you.”

It didn’t take much. It was almost instinctual, Rachel clamping her teeth onto Quinn’s pulse point, the one thing that always drove a vampire wild. Quinn howled, bucking and writhing, cunt just *clenching* around Rachel’s cock. But, it was more than physical. That connection between them. Rachel clamped her teeth onto Quinn’s neck and Quinn’s aura exploded. It buffeted Rachel, hit her like an erotic concussion wave. Rachel went all live wire, her body convulsing and jerking spastically, cock twitching and pulsing as she emptied her seed inside Quinn.

**

“You have to stop that, you know.”

Minutes, days, years later, Quinn’s voice broke the silence of the room. Rachel used the last of her energy reserves to lift her head, gazing down at Quinn.

“Stop doing what?” she asked.

“Stop biting me,” Quinn answered with irises still black as coals. “Because, one day, I will return the favor,” she paused, licking her lips, exposing still extended fangs. “And it won’t be an accident.”

Rachel shuddered. It reverberated through her entire body, ending with a hard twitch of the cock still buried deep within Quinn. A twitch strong enough to make Quinn’s breath hitch.

Quinn’s smile went feral as she purred, “I’d heard witches were renowned for their stamina. Are you ready to test that theory?”

Just like that, Rachel’s energy tanks were full, practically bursting at the seams. “Bring it.”

“Good. Now get off me. There’s one position I’ve been dying to try with you.”

**

TWO WEEKS LATER

Quinn was not standing by Rachel Morgan-Berry’s locker. She was not standing by Rachel’s locker and she was certainly not standing by Rachel’s locker like she was waiting for the girl. Except, she totally was. Which made it all so much worse because Rachel was late.

She leaned a shoulder against a locker that wasn’t Rachel Morgan-Berry’s. Looking all the world like the high-blood vamp she was, in her black leather trench, blood red blouse and black leather pants. She inhaled solemnly. Quinn missed her Cheerio’s uniform. Quinn missed being a Cheerio. She missed the days when she was the top rung of the social ladder. When she had to look down and everyone else had to look up to see her. If she could get that all back..

An uneasy feeling overwhelmed her, crinkling her brows, pursing her lips. She missed those days. She wanted to be *that* Quinn again. But that Quinn didn’t have Rachel Morgan-Berry in her life. And this Quinn didn’t like contemplating all the ways and why’s her life was better now that Rachel was in it.

It was more than the sex, even though sex with Rachel was, like, sun scorchingly hot. It was more than the bite on Rachel’s neck that bound them together in ways Quinn preferred not to think about. Or the way Quinn felt, all warm and squishy inside, when she kissed Rachel. Or the way Rachel’s skin seemed to glow when Quinn was going down on her, and the way that warm glow seemed to seep inside Quinn, lingering long after the sex ended.

Somehow, someway, Rachel had become Quinn’s touchstone. The only one who could quell the always there darkness within Quinn. With just a touch. Just a look. Quinn may have bitten Rachel. But Rachel was the one who controlled Quinn. And that scared Quinn more than anything.

Quinn had the opportunity, the means to run. To get as far from Rachel Morgan-Berry as humanly, or inhumanly, possible. Instead of fleeing, Quinn stayed. The longer she stayed, the closer she got to Rachel. Until the lines went blurry, up became down and it was all this intangible, unnamable mess Quinn wasn’t sure she wanted out of.

Another slow, solemn inhale of breath meant to exhaled as another sigh but the air went into Quinn’s lungs and she could feel the corners of her lips pulling into a smile, the irises of her eyes widening just a little as a certain scent drifted into her nose, settled deep into her lungs.

Rachel’s scent.

She lifted her head, gazing down the hallway, lips finally stretching into an actual smile. Rachel Morgan-Berry was walking towards her locker. Arms folded over the books held to her chest, the widest, brightest smile on her face and..

Wearing the shortest, tightest skirt that was probably against school regulations.

Rachel stepped towards her locker, one hand working on the combination.

“You got your vagina back, didn’t you?”

“I got my vagina back.” Rachel beamed. “I finally broke down and talked to my Dad’s. As fun as, um, Little Liza has been, I am so glad Barbara‘s back.”

“Ha! I knew you only named your penis Liza because the name Barbara was already taken!”

Eyes darting about, Rachel practically jumped into Quinn‘s personal space. Because suddenly and unexpectedly grabbing a vampire was one of those things one shouldn‘t do to a vampire, Rachel put death grip on Quinn‘s forearm. “Could you talk a little louder, please!” she forcefully whispered.

Quinn, irises dilating a little wider, looked down at the hand gripping her arm then trailed her eyes back upwards and Rachel sheepishly let go. She was sort of getting used to the little ways Rachel went about accidentally breaking the rules. There was always payback and Quinn *loved* the payback part. Her grin went wolfish as her eyes went to the still unnamed part of Rachel’s anatomy. “What do you call your breasts?”

“Duh!” Rachel rolled her eyes. “Rum Tum and Tugger.”

Quinn tensed, eyes going darker as she folded her arms across her chest. “Who cursed you?”

“No one. I mean..” Cheeks darkening, Rachel’s eyes found something of interest on the locker Quinn leaned against. “I did.”

“What? Why? How!?!”

“It’s not what you think,” Rachel blurted. “I wasn’t trying to give myself a..” she paused, eyes darting about to make sure no one was listening before whispering the next word. “Penis.”

Quinn narrowed her eyes. “Rachel,” she said, elongating Rachel’s name in that kind of tone Rachel’s Dad’s always used.

“I.. I just wanted to see what I’d look like with bigger breasts.”

“Seriously? Why would you do that? Your breasts are perfect.”

“You think so?” Rachel’s cheeks darkened, demure smile twitching her lips. “Anyway, I got parts of the flower wrong, confused the stigma with the stemen. I mean, how was I supposed to know? It’s not my fault. Anyway, my Dad’s put me on restriction. And now I can’t do any spells for three whole months!!”

The bell rang and the hallway began to clear. Rachel turned, moving towards class when she felt Quinn’s arm in the crook of her elbow. Before she could turn back to face Quinn, she felt the heat of Quinn’s body against her back, the heat of her breath as her lips hovered close to Rachel’s ear.

“Can you still visit the church?”

“Yeah,” Rachel answered. “Why?”

“Because,” Quinn purred then flicked her tongue over the vamp scar on Rachel’s neck and Rachel clenched her thighs at the sudden hard pulse between her legs. “You’re not the only one who’s missed your vagina.”

**

Quinn could never content herself with just kissing. It wasn’t all her fault, not really. They would start kissing, then Rachel would do the wrong thing, Quinn a hair’s breath from full blown horny vamp mode and they were either skidding around third towards home or pushing themselves apart in preparation for separate and very ice cold showers.

But not this time. This time, Rachel did everything right. Mainly by keeping her hands to herself, putting a death grip on the headboard and letting Quinn take the wheel. So, Quinn kissed her and kissed and kissed. Just when Rachel began to wonder if a person could die from kissing alone, Quinn’s hand slipped between them, slipped into Rachel’s panties. Then it was Quinn’s lips and Quinn’s fingers, stroking, rubbing, teasing.

“God,” Rachel grunted as Quinn slipped just a knuckle’s worth of finger inside her. “I’ve *really* missed having a vagina.”

Quinn giggle-purred into Rachel’s neck, slipping all of her finger into Rachel’s pussy. Rachel bucked, squirmed beneath her.

“Don’t you dare come,” Quinn growled, Rachel whimpering as Quinn withdrew her finger then gripped the waistband of Rachel’s panties. “Not before I taste you.”

Rachel released her hold on the headboard, reaching down and threading her fingers into Quinn’s hair as Quinn descended. It was the wrong thing to do in all the right kinds of ways. Rachel’s nails scraping Quinn’s scalp as Quinn’s tongue was.. Quinn’s tongue. Rachel dug in her nails, Quinn growled into Rachel’s pussy and Rachel bowed, pushed Quinn’s mouth deeper.

Losing control. The thing Rachel feared the most, her own, Quinn’s. The point when she didn’t care. This point. Because Rachel didn’t care anymore. She could feel the magic swelling within her, the expanding of her aura, the expanding of Quinn’s, the moment when they merged. The moment when Quinn’s lips wrapped around her clit and two fingers pushed deep into her pussy.

Rachel didn’t lose control.

Rachel let go because she had her vagina back. Because it was like the first time all over again, only much, much better. Her relationship with Quinn was complicated and confusing and, most of the time, scared the crap out of Rachel. Then, there were the other times. The times that made it all worth it. When it felt right, good. Meant to be.

When Rachel let go.

The orgasm freight-train hit her. Rachel turned all feral wail, body live-wire on wet ground writhing and convulsing. Quinn didn‘t stop. Quinn never stopped after the first orgasm. She pushed Rachel over the edge, drug her back to the mountain top just so she could push Rachel all over again. She drained Rachel of every moan and grunt, of every shiver and tremble.

Quinn.

Scary. Confusing. Complicated.

Complete.

**

Buried in her terrycloth robe, Rachel opened the bathroom door as she rubbed a towel over her head. Quinn was still in bed. She big cat stretched, rolling onto her side and propping her head up with a hand. Rachel continued drying her hair until the feel of Quinn’s eyes on her was too much to bear in silence.

“What?” she asked.

Quinn merely Cheshire-cat grinned, drawing lazy patterns on the mattress with a finger. “I‘m *really* glad you got your vagina back.”

“Me too?” Rachel elongated the words into the form of a question. She hadn’t really known Quinn for long, or could say that she knew Quinn well. She just knew this conversation was going somewhere she probably didn’t want it to. Hell, she *knew* it by the look on Quinn’s face, one of the few things about Quinn Rachel *did* know well. Rachel blanched, mouth going slack as the thought hit her. “No!” she blurted. “No! No! NonononoNONONOnononono.. NO!!”

“Aw c’mon, Rachel. You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”

“If it doesn’t involve me doing the spell so you can have a penis then, yeah, I don’t know what you’re going to say!”

“Please?”

“No. I’m on restriction. If my Dad’s find out..”

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them. Besides, it’s only fair.”

“Fair!?!”

In a flash, Quinn was up and off the bed. Then, Rachel was up and off her feet, momentarily cradled in Quinn’s arms right before Quinn tossed her onto the bed. Just as quickly, Quinn was on top of Rachel, pinning Rachel‘s hands to the mattress by the wrist as she wriggled her thigh between Rachel‘s legs.

“That‘s right,” Quinn purred, leaning down for a quick kiss. “Fair as in you got to feel what it’s like to be inside me. It’s only fair I get to feel what it’s like to be inside you.”

“Uh, I was here thirty minutes ago and I can dare say you already know what it feels like to be inside me.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Quinn..”

Except, Quinn wasn’t listening anymore. She leaned down, pressed her mouth to Rachel’s scar and sucked. It was just with lips and suction but it was enough. Rachel felt it down to her bones as the gasp erupted from her throat and her body twitched almost convulsively.

“N.. No fair,” Rachel grunted, eyes fluttering, legs opening, thighs draping over Quinn’s hips, like she could already feel it between Quinn’s legs and was aching for it. “No playing dirty.”

“You like it dirty,” Quinn murmured into Rachel’s neck. Drew her tongue around the vamp scar as she slowly rolled her hips. “Give me a cock so I can feel your hand around it,” Quinn growled, demanded. Not quite pulling an aura but Quinn didn‘t have to, just the feel of her lips against Rachel‘s neck was enough. “Give me a cock so I can watch you as you jerk me off. So I can feel that fucking mouth of yours on me. I want to be inside you, Rachel. Fucking you. Feeling you come. Feeling myself come inside you.”

“I.. I can’t..”

Quinn clamped her lips onto the vampire scar on Rachel’s neck, clamped her lips and sucked hard. Just like that, Rachel came. Quinn rolled her hips, dry humping as Rachel bucked and writhed beneath her. She released her hold on Rachel’s neck, eyes black as midnight as she gazed down, still grinding into Rachel. “Tell me you don’t want me to fuck you like this.”

“Quinn..”

“Say ‘yes’, Rachel.”

Rachel swallowed hard at the sight of Quinn’s mouth opening, going slack like she needed to vent the heat within her. The tips of her fangs just peeking out. All danger and desire. Still, even with Quinn on the verge of going into vamp mode, Rachel felt safer in Quinn’s arms than anywhere else. Plus, Quinn *was* doing that thing with her hips, which felt really fucking good and it wasn’t like Rachel had *never* thought of Quinn doing Rachel like that. Of course, in Rachel’s mind, it had always been with the type of phallus that could be purchased and just as easily discarded, not one created with mortar and pestle. At least this way, Rachel didn’t have worry about the potential embarrassment of her Dad’s finding an unnamed brown box on their doorstep.

“Okay,” she smiled. “But, on one condition..”

**

EIGHT YEARS LATER

“Quinn..” Rachel groaned, face buried in the pillow at the feel of  Quinn’s fingers threading tight in her hair, at the hard deep push of Quinn’s cock.

Performing a spell that gave Quinn Ivy Fabray, the vampire, a penis hadn’t been a phenomenally bad idea. At the time, it just hadn’t been a phenomenally good idea either. Vampire’s were already sex on legs, walking pheromones seemingly stuck on the ‘in heat’ setting. Rachel hadn’t planned for the effect it would have on Quinn. Rachel hadn’t planned for the effect it had on the ENTIRE FEMALE POPULATION of McKinley High School.

The spell meant to last for two days (for a sexy times weekend) lasted three weeks - 19 days, 13 hours and 42 minutes, to be exact. It’s not that Quinn didn’t love being a girl, she just really relished the idea of being a vampire girl with a dick. A dick named Steve McQueen. For three weeks, Quinn walked into McKinley, all black duster, silk shirts, tight leather pants and a bulge that made even the most prodigious werewolf do a double take.

What happened one afternoon with more than a few members of the gymnastics team would also remain unspoken of. Of course, barring the times Rachel and Quinn got into a fight and Rachel felt the need to bring it up as a defense mechanism. Just because it would be forever unspoken of didn’t mean it could be unseen.

What happened with Quinn and the gymnastics team still didn’t compare to the time the entire Cheerios squad paid Rachel a hundred bucks each for a penis. But that? Was a story for another time.

With the hand fisting Rachel’s hair, Quinn tightened her grip. “Come for me, baby,” Quinn growled.

Right now, Rachel had Quinn. Quinn had Rachel, and right where she wanted her. Over time, Rachel not only perfected the spell, she was like the Michelangelo of the ’vagina to a penis’ spell. Sure, Rachel found it a little disconcerting at first that the spell she performed the best was the one that gave a woman a penis but, hey, everyone was good at something, right? A little less taro root here, a little more orchid there and Rachel could vary the length, girth, shape, heck, she could make it curve so it rubbed against the g-spot (and made Quinn howl like a proverbial bitch in heat, which Quinn totally loved). Of course, Rachel found it ironic in an Alanis Morrisette kind of way that the flower used for the spell looked like a vagina but was named after the Greek word for testicles. Figures. She could make the spell last for weeks, days or a couple hours. Quinn preferred a couple days, considering how much time she usually spent gazing at her reflection, just standing in front of a mirror in nothing but her leather pants.

Through the years, there’d been ups and downs, and even lower lows. Quinn saved Rachel’s life. Rachel saved Quinn’s. Repeatedly. In between, there was the time Rachel ‘died’ and Quinn went into the Ever-after to bring her back. There were bad breakups, romances, one-night stands, meaningless and meaningful flings, always followed by passionate make ups. There was the time Quinn went down on one leather clad knee and Rachel excitedly screamed her response.  
   
And, despite the seemingly impossible odds and the fact that they were two separate species, Quinn did in fact get Rachel pregnant, with twins no less. They were named Judy and Norma Jean, because Quinn absolutely refused to let Rachel name them Barbara and Liza (not after she’d already used those names for her genitalia). They came screaming into the world, all tiny and pink and absolutely perfect - Judy, who looked like her mother but had the personality of her ‘father’ and Norma Jean, who looked like her ‘father’ but definitely took after her mother.

It seemed silly upon reflection, how both Rachel and Quinn had been resistant to this – the two of them together. Now, neither of them would have it any other way. The connection between them had always been there, created, quite possibly, before either had been born. It was here now. They acknowledged it. Accepted it. Fate. Destiny. It didn’t really matter. They were together. How that came about didn’t matter. Even if it took..

A little (but totally NOT black) magic.

END


End file.
